I do not own The Walking Dead.
Previously:
"I'm sorry." Faye murmured again finally, as the woman's pain filled twitches began to subside. Death was near, the child new the look in someone's eyes. "You're alright, you're just fine."
But Diana couldn't see anymore. Or hear. Or feel. She could only bleed.
Adrenaline disappearing, the child didn't have it in her to sink a knife into the dead woman's brain. The lifeless body simply fell from her lap onto the ground.
Faye merely sat unmoving as blood stained her pretty green dress, the failure and death scarring into her skin.
Faye didn't know how long she had sat with the unmoving bodies, blood soaking into her dress, but eventually arms wrapped around her and pulled her up. She didn't respond when Carl looked her over frantically, no doubt checking for bites and scratches. Patrick was there too and was likely avoiding looking at the bodies to avoid throwing up. And then, Patrick was gone again, and the younger boy was guiding her away from the scene to sit against the wall, arms securely around her as she used him to hold herself up.
Carl murmured to her constantly, trying to draw her attention from wherever she was in her mind. "Hey, Faye, Patrick's gone to get Daryl and my Dad, okay? Everything's fine."
Nothing is fine.
The girl quietly listened to him, slowly registering her surroundings once more. Three adults rather than two and a child emerged from down the hallway, striding up to the scene. One figure crouched in front of her, Carl shifting a little so she could sit up more, and Faye recognised the man with blue eyes framed by dark hair to be Daryl. She blinked as he spoke to her, looking around to see Rick and Michonne observing the bodies, the former checking for Diana's pulse before pulling out a knife and-
The child turned her head away to face the hunter's concerned look. "Faye." He repeated.
She nodded to acknowledge she'd heard him. Her voice wouldn't do the situation justice. The majority of people would still be at the party, enjoying themselves. Only the minority happened to be here, and a smaller minority were dead. The absence of Patrick meant he'd likely gone to bed, and he was lucky to be a heavy sleeper. Daryl and Carl exchanged a few words, the boy probably assuring him that she wasn't bitten. The man soon left to stand with the three adults, who were still examining the bodies.
"Faye," Carl began again. "You in there?"
The girl nodded slowly, her response almost robotic. "Hello."
It wasn't much, but it was the best reply he'd gotten yet. He could work with this. "You okay?"
"That depends on your definition of okay."
That depends on your definition of slowly breaking down.
The boy shifted his arm around her as Faye held up a little more of her own weight rather than leaning against him. Her shoulder remained against Carl's. He turned his head to look at her, but the child's gaze remained on the grains of the floor. "Well, I don't really know. That's up to you."
Before she could reply to him, the three adults approached them. Daryl stood by her side, leg brushing her shoulder, while Rick crouched in front with Michonne stood to his left. Carl's hold remained steady as his father began to speak. "What happened here?" He said softly, as if approaching an injured animal.
"He was bit and they hid it. Diana came to check on him, but he was just lying against the wall. She got bit. I wasn't quick enough to save her. Just too late." Faye still couldn't bring herself to meet any of their eyes.
Michonne shifted and folded her arms, addressing the two adults. "When was he bit?"
"The run we went on yesterday," Daryl replied. "James came along, must've been then. The bite ain't fresh enough to be from today."
"What are we gonna do now?" The woman continued.
What a good question. How ever are they going to clear up your mess?
"Can't stop the party now," Rick said, shaking his head. He stood up. "It'll just make people panic. Let's get the bodies out of here, close up a couple 'a these corridors so people don't walk in on all the blood. Let's not ruin it for Glenn and Maggie."
Faye scoffed internally. The party was already ruined, two people were dead.
The three adults spoke together a little more before Rick moved to the bodies, leaving Daryl with Michonne. Carl was glancing around the hallway, likely towards his dad. Before long, though, the woman took her place crouching in front of the two children, mainly Faye. "Hey, kiddo, why don't we head back to your cell, huh? 'S quite enough for tonight."
Enough what? Excitement? Action?
What about enough mortalities?
Standing up with Carl's assistance, Michonne took the boys place with an arm wrapped Faye's shoulders. As she was walked away, she could hear Rick speaking to Carl, likely sending him to bed. Carl wasn't a heavy sleeper like Patrick was, but he was by far going to do better than herself that night.
The nightmares that were yet to face her that night danced through the child's mind, taunting her with their songs. The tune was more screaming than singing.
Faye jerked awake, shooting up into a sitting position. The child banged her head against the metals rungs of the upper bunk as she did so, hissing a vivid curse to no one in particular. She wriggled her toes, which were just cool enough to bother her after her feet had been hanging outside of the duvet.
How long Michonne had stayed with her, she didn't know. The woman had helped her change into something comfortable rather than the blood stained green dress, and had probably remained with her for a few hours at least, speaking gently to her in an attempt to help her sleep. It had worked for a while, even soothing her after a bad dream. But Michonne was gone now, and the cool morning air seemed to draw her from her bed rather than push her back into it.
It had never occurred to Faye to acquire a watch, somehow, so she didn't know what the exact time was. Not that it was a particularly important piece of information; time could come and go as it pleased without anyone's consent. All it mattered was that it was early, and everyone would be asleep. Apart from those on watch, who'd be changing shifts soon and having a lie in. Except Daryl, he'd be up for a long time yet.
Rick, or a member of the council more likely, would probably announce the events of last night, aside from the party that was. Perhaps after people were less hung-over. Faye wasn't sure how that worked; did a hangover go after a few hours or a whole day? Either way, if whoever it was had any sense, they would exclude her from the story.
The girl stood up with a stretch. Lazily, she shrugged on some clothes – deciding on a dark grey top with a star she never really wore, and a green zipped hoodie rather than her paler one.
Although she was unsure about where she was going, Faye's feet continued to move as her mind was reasonably empty of commands. The outside breeze brushed against her face, pushing strands of hair into her face. Her hands remained firmly seated in the pockets of her jeans, however, letting the wind do as it pleased.
Soon, she stood before a door, a no entry sign pinned on it hastily. The child pushed open the door anyway, careful not to let the sign fall as she did so. Looking down the corridor, she saw the scene, because of course Faye knew where she was going, how could she not. Where else was there to go.
Walking to the blood stained floor, she found the two bodies had been removed from the scene. Where to, she didn't know, but the girl doubted they would have buried them at the time. Faye assumed the passage had been blocked off by some more signs. Although, there would probably be some people too curious to obey the silent orders.
A simple decision was made in her mind, and Faye turned and left, but planned on coming back.
Minutes later, the child returned with a bucket of water and a rag. Soon, people would be awake and they'd be nosey and unable to resist finding out what was wrong. People were strange like that. Faye thought they would have learnt by now. What was it Michonne said once, 'curiosity killed the cat'? It didn't make perfect sense to the girl, but the general idea came across.
Faye bent down and sat with her knees underneath her, dampening the cloth. Her fingers disliked the cold feeling, a small shiver going up her arm, but she began to scrub at the dried blood nonetheless.
She'd been cleaning for a long while when she was interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps. Only, this time, it wasn't Daryl's. She always knew when it was Daryl. Besides, the hunter would probably understand the current state of mind she was in and let her know he was there, rather than try and sneak up on her.
Twisting her head around, Faye paused wiping the floor to wring out the fabric and glanced questionably up to the blonde.
The girl looked only mildly surprised at being heard. The older of the two raised an eyebrow at her. "What're you doing here, Lizzie?"
"Following you." She said, stepping up to the blood as she stared it.
Faye turned back, rag once again damp and continued to clean the floor. "And why are you awake at this time?"
"Nightmare." Lizzie said simply, eyes still transfixed on the floor. "This doesn't bother you?"
Shaking her head, she paused her work. "Not anymore." She glanced up at the blonde as the younger child replied. A smile spread across her face.
"Me neither."
Faye took it as the younger child trying to be nice. It didn't make it any less weird.
Lizzie began to speak again, but Faye cut her off. This wasn't any place for a little girl to be, and the way the child was staring at the blood was starting to freak her out. "You should go, Lizzie. It ain't good for you to be here, 's not nice."
"Neither should you," She retorted. "It's not your job."
If only she knew that you were to blame for it all.
She sighed, eyes guiltily facing the floor as she scrubbed firmly at a hardened piece of blood stuck to the floor. Her tone was slight "Just go back to your cell. Your Dad will get worried if he wakes up and you're not there."
The girl obeyed her, a slightly annoyed expression crossing her face. "What about Daryl? Won't he be worried about you?"
"Daryl's isn't my Dad." She said bluntly. Because it was true, he wasn't. Nobody was. "Go on, Lizzie." She stressed. "Have a lie in or something. Just go back to your cell."
Begrudgingly, Lizzie left.
It wasn't long before she had her next visitor. Daryl sighed once he was close enough. "Faye…"
Faye paused. This was completely typical. Daryl, coming in to try and take her away from whatever mess she'd gotten into. It was about time she learnt to deal with her own problems. The girl leaned back, cloth left on the floor as she rested her newly stained hands on her knees. "Everyone feels the need to tell on me." She said airily. "Like I need someone watching me every minute of the day."
"Didn't need Lizzie telling me where you went to know where ya were." The hunter replied. Faye guessed he would have crossed his arms, and by the sound of it began to lean against the wall. "What are you doing, Faye?"
"What does it look like?"
"Looks like something you ain't gotta be doin'"
She leaned forward again, picking up the rag and shifted so she could reach the last area of dried blood. "Someone has to. It's a job that needs doing so I'm doing it."
Faye could just imagine the concerned expression he'd be sporting. She wasn't sure why, there wasn't any danger for her to be in here. "Come on, leave it and we can go."
"No." The girl said firmly, shaking her head.
The man's tone grew a little harsher, as if it would force her to leave her work. "Faye."
"No!" She snapped. "What else am I gonna do? Lie in bed and think about how I wasn't enough to keep her alive? About all the other crap that's gone wrong? That's bullshit. This is something I can do. I'm clearing up my mess."
Daryl moved swiftly to crouch beside her, the hand now on her shoulder less for comfort but more to force her to just look at him. "It ain't your mess, it ain't no ones mess. Just a shitty thing that happened and you was there to see it."
Faye didn't reply to him. She'd heard that speech a thousand times, whether it was to her or to someone else or she was even the one saying it. Daryl stood once more and simply watched the child as she methodically washed at the floor, rinsing the blood away whenever she needed it. The bucket of water was more red than water now.
The silence seemed to drag on. Faye didn't know for how long. Time was mysterious like that. Maybe the apocalypse was the human's punishment for trying to put time into a cage – labelling the hours and days and months and years with numbers that did it no justice. Now it was free to deceive them whenever it liked. Time was more free than Faye was. Faye was trapped in a prison and time had escaped out of one.
Eventually, Daryl spoke. "I wanna take you on a run today. Michonne spotted a little place on her way back here that we could check out. Figured she could come along before she headed out again."
Faye hadn't gone on a run, or a hunt, since… in a long time. She didn't know how she felt about it. Was she scared of leaving the prison? It wasn't as if the prison was the safest place, either. Two people had died within its walls underneath most people's noses. Daryl probably not be letting her out of his sight, and Michonne we be there too.
Faye stood, looking down at the wet, but clean floor. The bucket wasn't doing as well. She stared blankly at it. "You can probably open it up again now."
"Yeah." He replied quietly. "Go clean yourself up, Faye."
"I'm not going back to bed."
"Nah," He shook his head, and Faye looked up at him. She probably didn't realise how odd her innocent face looked against the red stained hands hanging by her sides. "You're gonna get ready for a run."
And so she would.
The 'little place' ended up being a small farm , that Michonne said barely qualified as one because of its size. Maybe it was just a large family home, filled with some self-sufficient full-of-themselves hippies, as Daryl referred to him. The woman had playfully scolded him for it, so it was probably more of an insult than Faye thought it was.
The house, although not the same size, reminded her of the Greene's farm. The veranda that wrapped around the house was painted in white paint that was now cracked from age. The tiles were a grey that had probably been a darker shade before time was allowed to ware away at it. It probably would have been a pretty place before.
"It's quaint." Michonne said, almost affectionately. Faye didn't know what quaint meant.
Daryl scoffed. "It's tiny."
When the three of them approached the door – after Daryl had knocked on the window to bring any walkers to them before they entered the place – it was clear someone, or a whole group, had already been here. The thought that they could possibly still be in there sent chills down Faye's spine, despite the sun shining high in the sky. Then again, it was more than possible that they were gone, but the thought of it refused to leave her mind.
Once inside, Daryl issued his instructions. "Faye you, you take this room and wait for us to be done through here."
Really? One room?
It wouldn't surprise her if Michonne had already been through everything in this house. How pathetic did they think she was? They probably thought that the moment she step foot out the prison she'd be a quivering mess.
Ha. Who says you're not?
She'd show them. She was not scared. If Michonne had already checked the house, which meant no one was in it. Simple. Faye could make it around the house by the time the two adults finished loitering around the bottom half over the house no problem.
When Faye entered the room, her assumption proved to be correct. Although she didn't put in as much effort as she would normally have done, it was obvious enough that someone had already been through everything. This house wouldn't have anything good.
The girl ignored Daryl's commands as she quietly opened the door to the hallway and moved to climb the stairs covered in dull, blue, dusty carpet. Despite telling herself how no one would be up here, Faye couldn't help but pull out her gun, flicking the safety off just in case. Perhaps part of her head wasn't ready to be outside of known territory. Perhaps it was good that the lesson had finally been drilled into her head, no matter how brutal the teacher.
When she reached the top of the stairwell, the child turned to the first door on her left. Kicking it open gently, the door opened to reveal a walker slowly turning its head towards her. She was surprised to say the least, maybe someone else had been here recently to have drawn a walker, or Michonne had never really been here in the first place. Either way, it didn't matter.
The dead body stood tall, perhaps the height of Daryl. It lacked, however, any of the hunter's bulky muscles and was even missing an arm, the bone jaggedly exposed. The bags under its eyes were drooping and one side of its cheek was flaking off in large pieces. As it took its first step towards her, the girl's eyes were drawn to the stray arm lying on the floor, a small saw not far from it. It looked as if the man had been bitten and tried to hack off his own arm, dying off blood loss later.
It was the idiots own fault, didn't even use a belt to stop the blood flow. Dumbasses like that deserve whatever they get, they can't make it by themselves and they take up resources we could be using.
There was no need for her gun, she thought as she put it away. All it would do was attract Michonne and Daryl too quickly for her liking and, besides, she defeated plenty of walkers with just luck, gutsiness and a knife before. She pulled the blade into her hand.
Charging towards the man as he took another step forward, Faye yanked her arm back with gritted teeth as she aimed for the walker's skull, but quickly found herself missing as he hand reached just above its shoulder. The body soon over powered her with its only hand gripping onto her shoulder as it pushed her back into the hallway, her back hitting the wall with a loud thump as some of the books fell off the shelves behind her, digging into her back. In a moment of panic, Faye dropped the knife from her hand to grip onto the walker's strong fingers, stopping them from travelling to her neck and ripping through her throat. That would have been the end.
This didn't, however, stop the snapping, yellow teeth reaching for her face, the smell enveloping her. Grunting loudly with the effort, Faye slammed her elbow against the snarling walker's chest to try and hold it back a little. It was no use, she was defencelessly pinned against the wall.
Weakling.
She hated this, this couldn't be the way she would died, it was just like before, they had her trapped and useless and she was powerless to stop them-
Pathetic.
No. No, this was something she could control. Faye would not freak out or panic or anything else because Daryl said she was smart and Carl said she was cool and Michonne said she was spontaneous, whatever the hell that meant. She. Could. Get. Out. Of. This.
With the energy she had left to muster, Faye jammed her knee up and pushed the walker away just enough to give her a split second to reach for her gun-
An arrow shot through the forehead. Well, fuck.
"The hell d'ya think ya doin'?!" Daryl snapped, barely restraining a shout as he stormed up the last few steps. "I told ya to stay downstairs!"
Faye scowled straight back at him. "I had it!"
Ha! That's funny.
Michonne spoke just as firmly, brows firmly knitted together in a frown as she came to the top of the stairs, but her tone remained quieter than Daryl's. "You did not have it. You could have died!"
Faye flung her arms up in the air in exasperation. "I could die every single damn day-"
"No." Daryl cut her off immediately. "You cannot make that same damn argument every time ya do somethin' reckless. It ain't happenin' no more. I gave you instructions to stay where you were until we got back and you didn't listen and it could have gotten you killed! That ain't how things go on a run, you listen to ya damn orders!"
The girl gave up on restricting the level of her voice, shouting straight back to the hunter's face. "This is bullshit! You stick me in a room with jack shit in while you two go off 'n run round the house? Why? 'Cause ya think I can't handle it, 'cause ya think after one… one damn thing-"
Yeah, one thing you can't even speak of. How unafraid are you? Where's the little lion's roar?
"-that I'm gonna go runnin' scared? That is bullshit and you damn well know it!"
Michonne crossed her arms. "That isn't what we're saying, Faye. We're mad because you didn't follow orders."
"Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't follow your damn orders like a good little soldier." With that, Faye stormed past the two adults to the stairs, too quick for Daryl to simply grab her by the jacket.
"Get back here, Faye!" Daryl called after her angrily. "We aren't done here!"
The child scoffed. "Go to hell!"
With a hard slam on the door as she entered the room, ignoring the fact that it was a ridiculously childish move. Faye wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do now, but knew she not only pissed off two adults, but had also riled herself up too. Deciding it was probably best to calm herself, even just pull her heartbeat down to a normal rate, the child walked across the room the window seat overlooking the few fields attached to the house. She ignored the sound of the door creaking open, instead drawing long lines in the cracked paint with her fingernails.
"Faye, you can't just storm off like that." It was Michonne speaking.
l
"You have to know that, and that going up there alone was the wrong thing to do."
ll
"There're chances of dying every day, you're right on that point, but doing reckless things like you did just now are just doubling those chances. None of us want to see something bad happen to you, Faye, especially Daryl."
lll
"That's why he shouted at you. This isn't the way things work on runs. We work together, we follow orders, we communicate."
llll
"You can't do things like this anymore, you're past this now."
llll
"There's only so many times you'll get lucky, only so many times you can improvise your way out of a situation. You could have died today, we would have lost you. We can't just leave something like that to luck."
llll l
From the corner of her eye, Faye saw movement from what she thought was just a shed. Perking up slightly, she craned her head forward with squinting eyes.
"Faye, are you even listening to me?"
She murmured to herself. "Stables."
Michonne raised her eyebrows in confusion. "What was that?"
"It's not a shed," She said, standing up. "It's a stable!"
The woman didn't look any more clarified. "Alright..?"
The child flung her arms in the air, a new found grin adorning her face. "And there's a horse! An alive horse!"
It didn't take long for Faye to be running out of the house, in pursuit of the animal lurking behind the wooden building in the field. Daryl and Michonne followed at a walking pace behind her.
"Damn teenager and mood swings." Daryl complained to himself. "You know, we can't just let this go. Could'a died back there. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring 'er out so quick after last night. Thought it'd clear her head, not make it worse."
Michonne sighed. "Yeah, but what's done is done. Let's just deal with it back at the prison. Right now, we need to figure out how to get her and the horse back there in one piece."
Daryl raised an eyebrow.
"What?" The woman smirked. "You think she's leaving here without it?"
Daryl thought about it for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Nah."
In the distance, a red cheeked, out of breath child stood as a tall, bay coloured horses emerged into view.
Author's Notes:
Hi! Long time no see! My fault, I organised studying for tests and writing badly.
But, only one chapter until Season 4, and it'll be easier to get a chapter out on time at that point. The final chapter of the break between S3-S4 will be a lot less dark than this one, an easy and fun one with various characters. If you have any ideas that you'd like to stick in the chapter, any loose ends you want to see tied, let me know!
Anyway, we reached over 200 favourites, 250 followers and over 300 reviews! Cookies for all, we're on a roll. Thanks for sticking with me through the slow updates.
Please review, I love to hear your thoughts and advice.
Thanks.
Cobalt Flame.